


how do you think?

by heibai



Series: there's a first time for everything [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, an innocent-ish rendition of......... of well you'll know what if you read on, features something that has to do with hands... and mouth, ok but it's equal part sweet and spicy, sexual awakening i guess, so i guess here we are, this is a tale of awakening on all parts, you perfectly know what I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-21 04:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16569833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heibai/pseuds/heibai
Summary: “How would you like me to call… it?”“Call whatwhat?”Renjun pointed at the general spot of Jeno’s crotch. Their lower bodies were fully submerged under the milky white lukewarm bath water, so truthfully, Jeno could’ve easily feign innocence and say‘you can call my knees, knees.’But he didn’t. Instead of shying away, Jeno tilted his head backward, looked right into Renjun’s eyes and said,“The meat pole.”





	1. 01.

**Author's Note:**

> :)))))))))  
> I have no words too, you know. 
> 
> enjoy, i guess

 

“I nearly called the ambulance on you,” Renjun never thought he would spend his Friday afternoon having a near panic attack on a small apartment complex. All because Jeno failed to answer his door after he’d button-mashed the doorbell like a crazed salesman.

 

And yet there he was, Jeno, the culprit himself. Messy haired and pajama clad Jeno, who was leaning against his door frame with an apologetic smile that bordered so much on something mischievous, that Renjun suspected he might’ve witnessed the entire process of his mental breakdown through the door’s eye hole and gained a certain amount of sick amusement from it.

 

“I’m okay,” he said, all dandy and such. Usually, Renjun would instantly melt when Jeno gave him his standard issue _mister heartbreaker_ act. But this time, it only caused him to grow even more furious.

 

“You could’ve not be!” Renjun half-screamed and half-whined his worries as he stormed into the empty apartment unit, uncaringly tossing his heavy backpack and the soggy bag of takeaway cheeseburgers and fries to Jeno’s mom’s beige tweed sofa. Jeno wasn’t allowed to be _dandy and such,_ especially not after Renjun thought that he was _dead._

 

“But I _am_ okay now, am I?” Jeno’s light hearted response to his long tirade about how _head concussion victims should_ not _sleep without supervision_ was starting to make Renjun seethe _,_ “it’s just a small bump to the head, I’m _okay_ Renjun.”

 

“The concrete block you collided with cracked nearly in half.”

 

“Well, I do have a thick skull.”

 

“You forgot your name for nearly thirty minutes.”

 

“Well, I _am_ slightly dumb.”

 

Jeno must’ve seen the seed of an annoyed grunt brewing underneath the roll of Renjun’s tired eyes, that he instantly swept in at the last second with a bear of a hug to stop it from spilling over. _What a cheat,_ Renjun thought. But he’ll let this one slide. Because the feeling of Jeno’s broad palms patting his back as if he was a mom trying to make her baby burp had been successful in dialling down Renjun’s irritation from a boiling nine, to a manageable two.

 

“I’m okay,” he whispered, cool lips a mush against Renjun’s heated neck, “I’m okay.”

 

“Well hello, _okay,_ I’m hungry,” without much thought, Renjun pushed himself from Jeno’s strong arms and ambled his way to the sorry lump of paper bag that was splotched all over with steam and grease stains, “eat lots. You have a ton of math homework to catch up afterwards.”

 

“I can’t believe you’re telling someone suffering from a brain damage to do _math,”_ somehow, Jeno has found his way back to his side, now propping his lazy head on top of Renjun’s tired shoulder, _which_ he easily shrugged off.

 

“You told me it was just a tiny bump to the head. So shut it.”

 

 

_ 

 

“No way in hell am I letting you take a shower on your own.”

 

First came food, then came stress (then came a _looong_ bout of stress in the form of three pages of math homework), and lastly came Jeno, who whined at Renjun that he felt so filthy the toilet’s jealous. “I haven’t taken a shower in two days,” he whined, “I smell, I smell, _I fucking smell!_ How can you not notice?” Renjun almost told him that he weirdly loved the smell of his body odour, the sweet earthy scent mixed with what he could best describe as the sour smell of a way too ripe tangerines, that wafted to the air each time Jeno moved his limbs around. Though he was quickly brought back to reality after he realised that by confessing to it, he’ll just make himself sound like the most disgusting pervert to ever walked the earth.

 

“No. You’ll slip and crack your head open on the spigot and I’ll be jailed for act of negligence.”

 

But Jeno was relentless. He kept begging to be let to take a shower to the sound of Renjun’s increasingly annoyed refusals that at the eleventh hour, he grabbed Renjun by his shoulders, stared deep into his eyes (because he knew it was the only way to make him _listen),_ and yelled,

 

“I only said I want to wash up! Nowhere did I say I want to take it by myself.”

 

And that was how Renjun found himself sitting half submerged inside a tub at Jeno’s parent’s bathroom with Jeno himself sitting in front of him, long legs all tucked tightly near his chest and his back hunched towards Renjun so he could help him wash up his hair all that more comfortably.

 

“The only thing missing is a rubber duck,” Jeno’s joke-ish comment was answered with a quick splash of steaming water directed right at his face.

 

Renjun has been rendered nearly silent after Jeno proposed the idea that they should take a bath together. How awkward, how inconvenient. Knowing that at that point he was like a cornered fish who’ve got nowhere to go but the chopping block, Renjun screamed one last _honest_ reason in a desperate effort to get himself out of the situation, “I’ve never been naked in front of anyone!”

 

“Who told you anything about being naked?” Always failing to read between the lines, Jeno only grinned at him as he magically whipped two pairs of swimming trunks from behind his back, seemingly out of thin air.

 

Renjun was just about to keep on refusing his request when Jeno, that cheeky little shit, pretended as if a wave of strong pain was wracking his head and used the situation of Renjun struggling to prop up his entire body weight to his full advantage. “Please?” Jeno whispered to his already heated ears, and Renjun was reduced to nothing more but his most loyal _yes man._ Saying yes to anything he said. Even if that meant he would have to go through the next fifteen minutes being mute and feeling uncomfortable as hell.

 

So there they were, two boys clad in swimming trunks cooped up inside a tub much too small to contain both of their fully grown bodies. And yes, the fact that they weren’t naked gave Renjun a little sense of relief from his baseless nervousness (because god knows how often their hands have roamed to land on each other’s crotch when the heat of their make-out sessions were scrambling too much with their sanity), but this situation was somehow _worse_ in its own unique way, because Renjun couldn’t get the thought, that he was wearing a fabric that has touched Jeno on his most intimate places, out of his mind.

 

And now it was touching _his_ most intimate places too.

 

It was like an indirect kiss, if the kiss in this case was switched to an act of using one’s hands to tightly cup around the other’s genitals.

 

They’ve been stuck in their weird brand of undefined, on again, off again friends with benefit status for the last two months. Not really boyfriends (as none of them have admitted to anyone, not even to themselves, if they _are_ or if they are _not),_ but not fuck buddies either (because they’ve never _fucked,_ and they’ve also said _I love you_ to each other. In Renjun’s mind, the label could no longer fit them because _fuck buddies aren’t supposed to say_ that _to each other, right?)._ Maybe that was the reason why Renjun preferred to call what they have as ‘friends with _mild_ benefit’. And the benefit in this case was private tutoring lessons that were soon followed by an hour long make out session. Without fail. Acting like a well-deserved reward for their diligence given-and-taken on Jeno’s bed, if they decide to be more scholastic on the day, or in the dingy changing room at Renjun’s community basketball court, if a PE practical test was looming over their head and Renjun grew desperate enough to _try._

 

“That’s the spot…”

 

Jeno threw his head back and let out a little sigh when Renjun used his fingers to wipe his temple from the cumulating soap suds, pressing slightly harder against his slippery hairline than the nearly careless way his fingers previously raked through Jeno’s tangled hair. The sound caused him to impulsively continue on his light massage, running his thumbs down the center of Jeno’s scalp before pressing them firmly at the base of his skull. The move rewarded him with another one of those satisfied sigh that Renjun loved so much. It wasn’t an unfamiliar noise, that sigh of his. But hearing it for the first time with a clear head, when his brain wasn’t riddled with the fuzziness that would always descent on him the moment Jeno’s lips pressed against his own, caused it to sound 100% more… delicious.

 

“Is it okay if I lean back?” Jeno mumbled, his words trapped behind lips that were way too heavy to be fully opened.

 

Without waiting for Renjun’s approval, Jeno began to move around this way and that, before settling when his whole body was essentially resting against Renjun. Shoulder blades pressing against jutting collarbones, and feet that partially dangled off the bathtub’s sides as they surely could only be compacted in such small amount of space for so long and still feel comfortable. This meant that reluctantly, Renjun had to spread his legs open to accommodate their new position as Jeno was insistent that he didn’t want to sit on Renjun’s lap and be responsible for any discomforts that he might develop on his already problematic knees.

 

“Are you good?” Renjun wanted his words to imply that he was annoyed by Jeno’s brashness, but the sight of his eyes fluttering to a close when Renjun’s fingers found their way back to his shampoo laden hair prevented him from doing so, his conscience telling him that the moment was far too pure and delicate to be ruined by his sorry attempt to be witty. So he repeated his question again, much more softer this time, and he was deservedly rewarded by a low purr that seemed to resonate from the base of Jeno’s stomach, “fantastic.”

 

Soap suds ran down the back of his neck and slowly resettled themselves inside Renjun’s clavicle, leaving a ticklish sensation when the minuscule bubbles burst the moment they came in contact with his warm skin. They act like tiny little hypnotic cues, putting both of them in a haze of monotonous motions that pulled them deeper and deeper underneath the surface of physical decency. Renjun with his magical scalp massaging fingers, and Jeno with his thumbs drawing absent minded circles on the inside of Renjun’s thighs.

 

Maybe it was because of his brain damage, but Renjun has never seen Jeno keep his well behaviour for this long. Usually the most he could muster was a five seconds interval between one disjointed conversation to the other. At first, for someone who genuinely thought that there would be a special place waiting for him in hell filled with nothing but awkward stares from strangers and painfully loud silence, Jeno’s chatter mouth was one of the quirks that Renjun was really thankful for. But, just like many things that he’d learn to love because of Jeno, like afternoon walks or pineapples, for example, silence was something that he’d grown to dread less and care more. In silence they filled the air with the sound of pen rubbing against paper, the sole of their shoes against gravel, skin against skin, and it no longer felt like torture for Renjun. Jeno was so far from being a stranger that when he looked up from his homework, or when he looked back when they were trekking through the small park near his apartment, or when he opened his eyes after they’ve landed back on earth from a kiss that brought their souls up to the stratosphere, there would always be a smile on his lips. The familiarity of it, the sameness. In them, he found comfort.

 

As they’ve figured out a way to find solace in it, silence fell around them like a natural veil that didn’t need to be fought after. And soon enough, silence led to idle thought, led to candid observation. Jeno’s eyelashes looked like the legs of a black tarantula, his hair was a tangle of curly mess, and underneath the murky water, his green swimming trunks took the colour of a deep emerald. Everything was wet and clumping together, all slightly a shade darker than their original colour, except for his skin. Truly, even if there was a slight dusting of pink across it, Jeno still was the closest humans could be to looking like a well polished marble statue.

 

Unable to fight his impulses any longer, Renjun’s hands somehow gained their own sentience and they went to loosely coil around the base of Jeno’s neck. It started off with a massage so soft that he couldn’t even begin to notice them, mind too busy trying to savour every second of the heavenly feeling of Renjun’s fingernails scratching ever so carefully on the soft skin of his nape. But seemingly without him intending to do so, Jeno let out a loud _moan_ when Renjun pressed his thumbs down the center of his neck, right on the spot of where his collar bones meet, and hard enough that he could feel the firmness of Jeno’s trachea under the pad of his fingers.

 

Renjun knew Jeno didn’t intend for such lewd sound to escape from his throat, as when his brain had caught up with what the foreign sound meant, his previously closed eyes grew into the size of saucers and he stared at Renjun looking like he’d just let out the loudest fart in a crowded room.

 

_This is it._

 

All the books that he’s read, all the movies he’s watched, all the pornos, hentais, you name it, they taught him that _that_ was the moment to seize if he ever wanted to take what they have anywhere further. Trap him at the corner, between the walls of the bathtub and the frosted glass partitioning, and _kiss him._ But not just any kiss. Make him swoon under the roughness and insistence and maybe this time, Renjun can finally get it out of himself the proper way to act _sexy_ (instead of looking like the human personification of a pierced yolk of an onsen egg).

 

_Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss kiss kiss kiss k,-_

 

“So uh… how do you usually call… _yours?_ ”

 

 

_ _ _

  


 

It was kind of pathetic and hilarious at the same time that Renjun ever thought that once Jeno was - partially - his, that he would be freed of his elaborate sleep time scenarios. Yes, he was freed from the cinematic experiences of how he thought it would feel if Jeno ever kissed him, but it was only exchanged to a front row view of how it would feel, and look, if Jeno ever kissed him… down south.

 

And because brains are the worst liar, there is a sliver of truth in his fantasies (if the sliver in this case is a gigantic case of a beached tree trunk). However hard he might try to deny it, Renjun _wanted_ it. He wanted to feel it, to go on this journey with Jeno and who knows how often he’d bitten his tongue at the very last moment before he could blurt out his wish of _‘do you want to try something more?’_ But as usual, when the perfect moment presented itself to him, he withered away like a shrub of shy mimosas after a light drizzle of morning rain.

 

Exactly like how the panic in Jeno’s eyes fizzled away, seamlessly replaced with a look of giddy, embarrassed amusement. “Call what _what?”_

 

“How would you like me to call… it?”

 

Renjun pointed at the general spot of Jeno’s crotch. With their lower bodies fully submerged under the milky white lukewarm bath water, Jeno could’ve easily feigned innocence and say _‘you can call my knees, knees.’_

 

But he didn’t. Instead of shying away, Jeno tilted his head backward, looked right into Renjun’s eyes and grinned that one type of grin he only reserved for occasions when he’s feeling especially cheeky (such as right at that moment) before saying,

 

“The baconator 2000.”

 

The calm and quiet bubble where they resided was unceremoniously popped by the loud splash caused by Renjun’s palm slapping the surface of the bathwater. It was soon followed by a combination of laughter and wheezing coughs as Jeno tried his best to evade Renjun’s arm who was trying to choke the life out of him with an unabashed air of vengeance.

 

“I’m being serious!”

 

“Well I am too!”

 

“I mean,-! Should I call it the… the di…iiick? The uh, the…. _Penissss…?”_ Just as quickly as he gained the energy to execute his explosive movements, Renjun was left a neurotic lump at the back of the bathtub, compulsively biting down on the knuckles of his right hand. It was as if the awkward nature of their conversation was simultaneously fueling and sapping every little bit of Renjun’s ability to frantically punish Jeno, by slapping the shit out of his arm, for his sin that was spinning around a serious situation into something so silly. It was only later that he apologised to Jeno, for Renjun realised that Jeno’s raucous comedy was the only thing stopping him from developing an early onset peripheral artery disease. _“The cock-a-doodle-doo…??”_

 

Jeno waited a good five seconds before he came to the conclusion that Renjun was safe to be laid on once more, and he did so while trying his best to stifle his laughter, afraid that one wrong peep would result in another pattering rain of Renjun’s measly attempt of hiding his embarrassment.

 

“The _thing?”_ He mumbled to himself, too lost in his own mind that Renjun didn’t even notice how Jeno had taken the liberty to carefully reposition his legs, once again spreading it open so that his boney knees would not jab against the lowest rung of Jeno’s ribs. How deeply he sighed when the bath water rose back up to cover the tops of their chest with a weighted, warm feeling that reminded him of all the late nights when they would carelessly cuddle on the living room sofa after they’ve finished their homework, carelessly turning a blind eye on the risk of being caught by Jeno’s parents (who were too busy setting up dinner to care, basically), or anyone else that bothered to look, as they were carelessly lounging around and kissing each other’s necks in public while they waited for Renjun’s mom to pick him up, “can I touch your… your _thing?_ You know what,- this is silly. This is,- can I touch you?”

 

“Of course.” Jeno’s calm voice pierced through the messy tumble that was his anxiety riddled brain, and only then did Renjun notice how close they were in relation to each other. Everytime a bubble burst from Jeno’s still unrinsed hair, he could feel them sprinkle tiny molecules of shampoo on his skin. That close. They were that close. “Of course you can.”

 

Why would an angel smile when he looked back on Renjun? He was so patient while Renjun was a chaotic amalgamation of wide eyed fear that tried to find a semblance of stability on Jeno’s calmly encouraging pair, and trembling fingers that were making an unsure journey down, down, down the treacherous path that was Jeno’s drenched and naked torso. And at that point, he was so exhausted by all the twist and turns that had happened in the span of fifteen minutes that something seemed to snap within his brain. As if a magical plug was pulled from the reservoir that contained the cocktail of his emotion and everything was drained down into the gutter. His dread, his anticipation, his excitement, everything. Gone. What’s left was a debilitating sense of exhaustion that made even moving his hand a drudge.

 

Usually, this would mean a hasty retreat. Putting up a withdrawn facade, for example, or in this case, pulling away his arm and telling Jeno an apology and a, _‘never mind’._ But apparently, not then. As at that moment, Renjun miraculously decided to fight on. Ignoring the sheer weight of his exhaustion and trudging along, past the murky water, past the elastic band around Jeno’s waist because unlike on any other moment when his mental light switch has been turned off, this one wasn’t only about him. There was someone else in the equation that took too big of a percentage over the outcome to be taken out of it without the risk of having to face a dire consequence. Beside, the smile on Jeno’s lips as he went on to give his a light kiss, and the little sigh that came out as naturally as the morning breeze, were too much of a sweet way to say thank you that Renjun didn’t have the heart to do it. To stop, that is.

 

It’s a life long conundrum for Renjun, this peculiar thing. How any amount of desire, enthusiasm, and curiosity could be instantly turned to disinterest or worse, a strong repulsion. It happened to all of his secret hobbies that were found out by his parents. Fencing? Once his dad warmed up to the concept and agreed to give him extra allowance money so he could get himself his own sabre, he lost interest right away. Same with his secret succulents collection. Once his mom found out and showed that she supports him? Gone. They’re all hers now.

 

People too were victims of his lightning quick mood changes. The mutual crush he had on the sweet coworker that he spent his seventh grade’s summer break working with at the local supermarket? The moment she showed just an inkling that she might have the same kind of interest to him as he did to her, Renjun asked for a shift change and ducked out of her vision every time she came looking for him during lunch break.

 

Maybe it was because of his rebellious nature. Maybe it was his brain instantly shutting down out of sheer disbelief that something could happen according to its whims. Maybe because he’s a masochist who enjoys the feeling of being opposed.

 

(Or maybe, he’s a coward who was never willing to open up and put the effort when it’s needed most.)

 

So then why oh why was Jeno the exception? Why didn’t he run away from him and begged for a school transfer right after they took each other’s first kiss? Renjun often theorised that the innate desire to find out the answer for _why_ might be the only reason why he stuck around. And maybe also because Jeno is a great kisser. But he digressed.

 

 

_

 

Renjun always thought that humans were created to roam the Earth with the sole purpose of eating, and fucking. Everything else that came after can be boiled down as variation of efforts done to obtain those two.

 

So, if his mom always told him to take someone out to a Chinese restaurant when he wants to know them better, that day he discovered another way to truly unravel humans so he could see their core. Something that he won’t ever share to his parents (or his children, if he ever has one in the future), that one he was sure. But at that moment, when Jeno allowed his head to rest against Renjun’s shoulder and proceeded to let out a long, desperate whine through his well flushed throat, Renjun learned that humans will also show their true selves during moments of unbearable sexual pleasure.

 

Because Jeno felt so soft this way, when he was melting on top of Renjun’s body like a layer of broiled cheese. Which did seem to be a contradiction of some sort, as to the physical eye he was nothing but strength and tightly strung muscles all over, not to mention the heated rigidity at the center of everything. But Renjun’d bypassed all the mess, all the walls and glass masks and conditioned bravado to see something so true and vulnerable he was afraid one wrong stroke would leave a permanent indent on Jeno’s soul.

 

“... hot,” Jeno mumbled, his pale face picking up the slightest bit of a distressed frown. With lids hanging heavy over his eyes, he jutted out his split lower lip into a small pout as he restlessly tilted his head from side to side, before he palmed Renjun’s boney shoulder as a mean to leverage himself a little bit further off the water, “can’t... breathe.”

 

Immediately, Renjun paused. Spending a good five seconds to study Jeno’s face to determine the level of his discomfort from how deep his frown was setting on his forehead. As he thought it was major enough, he decided to break their hypnotic bubble by asking, “do you want me to stop?”

 

“God,- _no.”_ There was desperate urgency when he latched a strong grip over the back of Renjun’s wrist, so much so that even though their skin were slippery from all the water and diluted soap, it wouldn’t budge. No matter how hard Renjun tried to yank his arm away.

 

“I don’t want anything bad to happen.” More correctly, he didn’t want to cause a human death over something as silly as giving a handjob. How would he explain the situation to their parents? The police? The news? Will he get a longer sentence because he murdered someone _while_ doing an act of discount sodomy?

 

But before he could further dwell on the legality of their actions, Jeno pulled his attention back to something that mattered more (at least for him) with an easy peck at the corner of his lips. “Nothing will.” His words sounded like it was stuck at the back of his mouth when he spoke next, all the while his hand was tugging at Renjun’s in a way that spoiled children would cloy at the arms of their parents when they wanted something from them, “and nothing will ever happen if you don’t… start.”

 

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

 

Similarly, the little laughter that he let out after Renjun continued on his stroking seemed to come deep from within his throat. And when he pulled Renjun into a kiss, it was like a wall of the dam around his inhibition and the proper way to conduct himself in society gave away, allowing a torrent of immodesty to flow through and overwhelm the poor, easily excitable Renjun. The moans, the sighs, the groans, he was so unabashed in showing them that they were slowly starting to turn a little bit too loud, and Renjun was afraid his neighbours would’ve picked up on the chaos by then. Knowing that he had no other option but to take up the _embarrassment_ baton himself, Renjun decided that he only had one solution to the this noise pollution problem, and that was by kissing Jeno even harder and deeper than before, praying that his own mouth would act as some sort of noise canceller chamber so that they wouldn’t have to face any accusations of doing an indecent act in the future.

 

Unbeknownst to Renjun, his mitigating method only served to… worsen things a little bit (if not _a lot)._ The kiss roused Jeno even further, which in turn sent Renjun to find a way another way to quiet him down (this time, with a hand coiled around his sensitive neck, as his instinct told him that _no air, no fanfare._ But he should’ve learned from the first time he did so, that Jeno was a baby erotic asphyxiation enthusiast), and it, in turn, only increased the size of the bonfire burning under their assess. They were trapped inside a perpetually fuelling arousal machine and it took Renjun a sharp bite on his lower lip to realise that any and all of his resistance was futile. Let Jeno scream if he wanted to. With how much he was straining the muscle of his neck, surely the idea was not far from said person himself.

 

Giving up has never felt so good.

 

Renjun’s mind began to took its natural scrambled state when Jeno’s slackened grip climbed up onto his arm and he attempted to rub it with the same rhythm as the one Renjun was giving him (emphasise on the work _attempted._ It was more akin to a few awkward pats here and there than anything else, honestly). By the end of it, Renjun even had to adjust the way they sat, because he was getting unexpectedly _excited_ from the way Jeno’s squirming body felt against the general direction of his crotch, and Renjun didn’t want to be found out (or admit) that he was giving himself a boner from a weak iteration of a dry hump.

 

But just when Renjun was about to once again give in to his impulses and trail down his kiss to the taut muscles of his neck that surely needed a little bit of loving, Jeno abruptly shuddered, practically tore himself away from their kiss, nearly jumped out of his skin the next time Renjun ran his hand to the tip of his _cock-a-doodle-doo_ (the word would later on became a teasing point that Jeno refused to drop no matter how much Renjun threatened to harm him), and let out an uncharacteristically high pitched yelp before he once again latched his fingers over and around Renjun’s hand. The only difference for this case was: they weren’t so sure then. Unlike the first time he did a panicked intervention. Also, it was clear that the type of urgency was not the same. If previously he desperately didn’t want Renjun to stop, at that moment he desperately needed Renjun to do _just that._

 

“Did you…,-”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Finish?” He stared at Jeno with an equal part surprise and confusion, before he suddenly broke off in a simmering bout of nervous laughter. As if he didn’t know if he should be laughing to lighten up the mood, or to give Jeno his condolences, “It hasn’t even been a minute.”

 

A literal anti-climactic moment.

 

“ _Gee_ I’m sorry for not lasting too long through my first ever handjob!”

 

“... first?” To the sound of Renjun’s incredulity, Jeno only raised one of his eyebrow. Perfectly conveying the message of _‘do you have any problem with that?’_ without saying even a single word. “I just, well, I thought you would’ve,-”

 

Renjun was quickly silenced when he remembered the fact that Mr. Lee _‘national U16 champ MVP’_ Jeno lost his first kiss, after living his 18 years in blinding fame and adoration from every single corner of his life, to him, a boy whose name even their history teacher of three years still struggled to pronounce. He realised that Jeno having not lost his handjob virginity for so long wasn’t too far fetched of a truth after all.

 

But still, he was amazed by how calm Jeno was at handling something that most people would’ve tried to bury seven feet under and even more, if they could afford it. _Yes, it was my first time and I lasted only for 43 seconds (with a small intermission in the middle). Did you do any better?_ If it was Renjun, he would’ve bolted out of the tub, soap suds and all, and hide himself forever inside the linen closet.

 

Which, he nearly did, when Jeno suddenly plopped an open palm on his crotch and said, “now it’s your turn.” Jolted awake by the peculiar combination of panic and pleasure, Renjun sprung up onto his feet, took one wobbly step with his legs (that have fallen asleep), instantly slipped, and dove face first on the direction of the… you guessed it, the bathtub faucet.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /:)) has to split this into two because if not it'll be a little bit too long for a story about two teenagers' sexual awakening adventures/
> 
> I feel the urge to apologise ksjcnd  
> This is seriously awkward because i've never written any /spicy/ slashfic before and here we are, again.  
> The name of this series has a double meaning because not only will it explore the characters' firsts, but also my own firsts as a writer lolol.
> 
> Again, the title is a song by cheeze (my favourite one, in fact), and the basic concept of the story is inspired by my first ever /mature/ slashfic by TheoMiller titled ['you should be alone with me'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294120/chapters/12220970) (yes it's a ben grimm x reed richards story, yes they're the only good thing to come out of that wretched fan4stic movie sjkdcs)
> 
> hmu @ my twitter [@moon__soil](https://twitter.com/moon__soil) ~


	2. 02.

“If you’re not ready you should’ve just told me.”

 

Renjun was sitting up at the tiled landing at the far end of the bathtub, carefully using a small cup to rinse the shampoo from Jeno’s head that was settling comfortably against the side of his inner thigh. After they’ve managed to calm themselves down following the heartracing, cringe inducing stunt that Jeno did to save Renjun from getting a cracked skull (and that was by instinctively pulling him back by the waistband of his swimming trunk, so that instead of falling face first on the metal structure, Renjun fell face first onto the warm water of their bath. It was not painful, but it was still utterly embarrassing), any quietness was a welcomed respite. The only sound was the water splashing from the cup, and the quiet trickling of the droplets from Jeno’s discarded swimming trunks that was lying in a lump at the corner of the platform.

 

But then Jeno just had to break it with a topic that caused Renjun to perk up in nervousness. Or maybe it was giddiness. But the point is, he _perked up,_ when he was trying his best _not to_ for the last minute, by solving integral problems in his mind. The last thing he wanted to happen after losing face in front of Jeno was him to perk up, be it mentally or… physically.

 

“Honestly, it’s not that,” there was a considerable stretch of silence before Renjun continued on his sentence, enough that it caused Jeno to tilt his neck a little bit so that their gazes would line up. Probably worried, from how quiet he sounded, and how his fingers suddenly paused in a slack grip around Jeno’s shoulders, that something out of place was happening. Tears, for example. “I want it.”

  
  
“But are you ready?”

  
  
“I want it.” There were no tears then, just a red face and pouty lips from bitten inner cheeks as Renjun was afraid the entirety of his lower jaw would shiver itself off from all the nerves coursing through every tiny little millimeters of his body, “if we wait until I’m ready it’ll be forever.” 

 

The short beat that passed through their silence was more than enough to change Jeno's kind gaze into something that betrayed his doubt. "Riiiight," he let out a drawn out sigh as he easily swiveled his body around, letting his weight rest on his knees while he comfortably rest his chin on one of Renjun's minutely trembling thighs, "and _what_ it is that you want?"

 

"W-what do you mean? Of course the... the,-" 

 

"The what?" The smile hanging on Jeno’s face was so crooked it could be categorised into a smirk. A smirking Jeno. Imagine that. Renjun would’ve resorted to slapping the universe's error of creation off those pretty lips if only he wasn’t being too busy trying not to give himself an anxiety attack from hyperventilating too much. Jeno's fingers have started to trace small circles on the soft, rarely touched skin of the back of his knees and when he spoke next, there was a really dangerously mischievous tone hidden in between his words. "How can you want something so much if you can't even _say it?"_

 

As usual, Jeno didn't seem to care, or mind, or notice that his action was causing Renjun such amount of distress. His fingers were sending droves after droves of phantom angry red ants up his spine, tickling the back of his eyes so much that he was afraid he would start crying if Jeno ever dared to inch his hand up by just one centimeter. And he dared. Renjun knew he dared. His words were even worse. Scrambling the last bit of conscious sanity in Renjun's mind with terrifying precision, even when he did it with a calm demeanor and a smile hanging perpetually on his face. Or maybe he did notice, and only continued to do it because he revelled in finding and exploiting another of Renjun's weak points that, according to him, came so far and few in between. "So? What is it that you want?" 

 

"I... I want you..." 

 

"You want me to what?" The end of his question, together with his previously still expression, was disturbed by a sudden bout of a shimmering giggle. It was as if Jeno wasn't able to keep up this weird, unusually suave front for one second longer, instead letting the facade slip from his grasp with each muffled laughters he was trying so hard to hide. And it caused Renjun to feel so _so_ stupid for allowing his nervousness to conflate his perception of Jeno because they were never _that._ They were never about the dark and sexual life that he would fantasise about during his daily pre-bedtime, mind numbingly cinematic adventures. Jeno was a guilty offender of repeatedly burping into their kiss, for god sake, and they never failed to make fun of Renjun’s growly stomach caused by his chronic case of bad indigestion that would always ruin whatever sensual headspace they managed to enter into.

 

And so that was how Renjun gathered enough bravery to speak out his desires. Mustered up so he could perfectly deliver it right after their laughters have fizzled out to an end, and Jeno’s hands, which were previously slapping the side of Renjun’s legs in the midst of his laughing fit as if they were his own, have found a comfortable resting place at the top of his thighs. Renjun waited for the atmosphere to somber down just a tad bit before releasing his lower lip from the cage of his teeth and said, “I want you to ssss….,-”

 

“Sssss….?”

 

They were trying so hard, _so hard_ not to enter another bout of shy, embarrassed laughter that Renjun had to put an end to their giggles with his palms firmly plopping onto Jeno’s shoulders, a deep, sharp inhalation of air, and a loud yelling that said,

 

_“I want you to suck my dick!”_

 

It was such an unfortunate thing that Renjun’s strategy completely failed in stopping the next round of laughters from hitting them on the guts with the power of a freight train running full speed. They had to spend another five minutes trying their best to not die from _laughing too much_ that Jeno’s face was looking noticeably blue when he finally gained back enough control of his upper extremities and managed to hook his fingers around the waistband of Renjun’s borrowed swimming trunks. “If that’s what you want!” Jeno said, slightly slurring on his words as he was trying to slurp the trail of drool that ran freely from the sides of his mouth, “then let’s do it.”

 

With how light his head felt from the lack of oxygen, Renjun didn’t realise the true extent of Jeno’s _let’s do it_ until he was sitting butt naked on the cold, tiled landing of Jeno’s bathroom, the blood that rushed through his aching cheeks was instantly frozen, turning his much too wide smile into a disbelieved gawk when he finished processing the reality of his situation. Jeno was kneeling in front of him, face placed smack dab in front of his crotch, _naked_ crotch. And so close too, that he could feel the tunnels of air hitting his sensitive skin everytime Jeno exhaled his increasingly heavy breaths.

  
Nobody has ever seen him _there._ Maybe just his parents (not maybe, it really was only his parents). But that stopped being a thing like, what. Since the day he’d learned not to wet his bed everytime he got a nightmare so 11? 12 years ago? And now the boy of his life, the person of his true and only affection was looking at it. Staring at it. Inspecting him, really, with how intently he was glaring at Renjun, as if it too was Jeno’s first time looking at someone’s privates that are not his own.

 

When the tension became a little too saturated with awkwardness and Renjun tried to push Jeno away so he could close his legs in the last scramble to gather back his dignity, he was faced with an opposition that came from two strong hands gripping onto the inside of his thighs, a little bit too firm and a little bit too desperate that it was enough to cause Renjun to plaster the lower half of his face with his shivering palm, hoping that it would be enough to dampen the little uncharacteristically breathy gasp that escaped from his gaping mouth.

 

“Just… just, wait, let me…” Jeno kept on muttering these tiny, little mindless whispers as he inched forward, ever so slowly pushing the legs that were framing his face further and further apart, much to Renjun’s distress. The more Jeno got closer, the more nervous Renjun became, and the stronger did the urge to hide himself from the world seized him, like a boa constrictor that was coiling around his chest, tighter and tighter until he could no longer breathe. He thought he’d found a compromise from leaving just his body and base ability to feel physical sensation behind as he tried his best to disappear into the darkness brought forth by the shaky fingers that pressed his eyelids shut. But the universe didn’t even grant him of that simple wish.

 

Because soon after Jeno crossed another _first_ in their list of _‘how many firsts can we do?’,_ Renjun felt cool fingers coiling ever so carefully around his wrists, pulling them away from his face before placing it, palm down, securely on the tiled platform. Jeno didn’t say anything when he did that, or anything after, for that matter. They only spent a beat of silence staring at each other but it was more than enough to give Renjun all the information that he needed to know.

 

_Look at me._

 

Easy for him to request that out of Renjun. Hard for Renjun to execute it without chewing the grimace off of his crooked lips. He had to scrunch the entirety of the right side of his face when Jeno went back to do his curious experiments because it was too much. _Too much, too much, too much._  

 

No matter how hard he tried to tell himself to calm down and to enjoy the moment, it was not enough to keep his nervousness at a controllable level. Yes, he knew Jeno would never hurt him, or exploit him in ways that will taint him with shame, but _still._ Uncontrolled nerves will forever be uncontrolled nerves and Renjun has never felt more exposed and vulnerable than at that very moment. Not when he was in the fourth grade and had to do a solo stage for his elementary school’s open house day, nor when he had to introduce himself to a room full of strangers on his first day of highschool. Nothing compared to the dreadful existential crisis he felt when he was being held open and carefully explored like such.

 

There was no denying that the pleasure Jeno brought forth was nothing but amazing, and it would be a lie if Renjun said that he didn’t enjoy whatever timid _thing_ Jeno was doing with his mouth. Renjun would’ve grabbed him by a handful of his hair and forced him to take it _all the way_ if he dared. He would’ve easily defeat Jeno’s record of a ridiculously quick finish if he ever saw with his own eyes how Jeno's adam’s apple would bob to accommodate the foreign intrusion inside his mouth. But he didn’t. He couldn’t even move his hands that were tightly gripping the edge of the tub, totally petrified on the spot as he felt a part of his brain enter a peculiar state of hyper awareness. As if a grandiose spotlight was suddenly switched on, acting like a homing beacon that pulled all the attention and consciousness of the universe into one single spot. Him.

 

It caused Renjun to realise and fixate on all his bodily imperfections. The numerous mosquito-bite scars on his legs, his ashen, boney knees and the discoloration of the inside of his thighs. How untidy his scraggly pubic hair was, the overall size (smaller) and state of his _prick,_ all shrivelled up and hideous from being submerged in water for a considerable amount of time. His weird looking navel, the flabby yet boney state of his torso, up to his knobby elbows and the redness of his face which, by that point, would’ve already went past the normal shade of pink and took a deep, purplish hue. Shameful, embarrassing, truly an appalling display of human body.

 

His heart was racing at a rate of 100 kilometer per second and the skin of his body felt like it was made out of freshly baked leather. Scorching hot and so stubbornly rigid. Numb. Everywhere. How could he feel whatever it was that Jeno was doing with his tongue when he couldn’t even feel the stinging cold of the porcelain tiles underneath him? And so, regretfully, knowing that they should probably stop before Renjun could ever throw up a heap of half digested burger and coke on top of Jeno's freshly washed hair, Renjun picked his right hand off the ledge, cringing when the suction of his palm let out a lewd sucking noise that seemingly acted as a trigger for Jeno to up his ante and began lapping him up with more fervor, placed the bed of his palm on Jeno’s forehead, and pushed his head away from his… _head._

 

The trajectory of his shaft springing up after it popped out from Jeno’s mouth caused it to flick the tip of his nose. And the sight of it, the absurdity of it all, seemed to snap the last string that held up his composure and from then on until a point quite near in the future, Huang Renjun has left the cockpit of his own mind.

 

At first Jeno was being lighthearted and all funny-funny about the situation, staring at Renjun with a smile and taking an obscenely long time to lick his upper lip before quipping, “... if this is you being paranoid about hygiene, I swear, you taste so much like a bar of soap you _can’t_ be anymore cleaner than this.” But when he realised how disturbed Renjun looked, combined with how violently he was shivering that his fingernails were causing a faint _‘clink clink clink’_ noise from where they danced against the tiles, Jeno somehow knew it wasn’t a time to play his slick and dandy card.

 

Numb as he was, Renjun still felt how carefully Jeno went on his effort to persuade him to join back into the tub. The gentle way he held his hand, and, there it was again. The child-like tuggings. He used his free hand to tug on Renjun’s arm, though this time it felt more like a tired kid begging for their parents to get away from the TV so he could be tucked in for the night. “Was it too much?” He asked when it seemed that he was happy with how securely Renjun was tucked at the small space between him and the inner walls of the tub.

 

Renjun only nodded at that, the thousand yard stare still plastered all over his wide-set eyes, “a little bit.”

 

From the small disturbances to the water, Renjun could tell that Jeno was trying his best to find his swimming trunks without unnecessarily moving his body too much. Probably afraid that one wrong nudge would lead to Renjun bursting in a messy visceral display of emotion. When he got his hand around the waterlogged fabric, Jeno offered it up to him with so much panic and hesitation on his face that Renjun couldn’t help but let out a short burst of laughter. “Do you want to put it back on?”

 

Plopping his hands back onto his face, Renjun shook his head in shame and let his laughter naturally turn into dry sobs, a way for him to healthily tip out the embarrassment that’d filled his heart to the brim. “God,- I’m sorry!”

 

“No! No, no you should _never_ be.” The way Jeno quickly scooped him up into an awkward, _please don’t cry because I don’t want mom to be mad at me_ hug was much too adorable that it confused Renjun to thinking that nothing bad had happened between the two of them. But it only lasted for a split second, only until he remembered of the _nakedness_ of their bodies and his eyes were blasted open in a moment of terror.

 

“I’m such a buzzkill!” He half-screamed and half-whined into Jeno’s damp neck, half-pushing and half-pulling, _trying-to-keep-them-where-they-were,_ when Jeno attempted to crane his head so he could give Renjun’s own face a better look.

 

 _You’re not._ His gaze said. But he opened his mouth and the words that flowed out of those empathetic smile were, “what do you want to do now?”

 

 _Finish the bath, get dressed, and run back to my home_ sounded like a good and sane idea. But at that moment, Renjun wasn’t feeling good _or_ sane. He wanted to make Jeno happy, dammit, and the guilt (and the curiosity) that came from cutting a nice moment short would’ve eaten his soul from the inside out if he bailed out of this like the coward that he was.

 

“Kissing,” Renjun said after gulping down the pesky phlegm from blocking his throat. His voice ended up sounding a little bit too loud after it was forced out of his windpipe like a cough, “kissing sounds nice.”

 

But that was okay, because the small shock allowed for a small giggle to flutter out all of their mounting nerves, and because Renjun’s favourite kiss from Jeno has always been the one where he smiles going into it.

  


_

 

Not being a coward was his mindset going into their latest session. And it was easy not being a coward, when everything seemed to flow by him as languidly as the water rippling around their arms. Roaming arms. Fingers that trailed carelessly as Jeno’s head was surely still light from having his needs sated not even ten minutes ago, and Renjun too, who’s allowed the heat of their bath to mix with the swell of their kiss to care for where they travelled and end up on.

 

And they surely ended on his crotch. Again.

 

At first Jeno yanked away his hand as if it was made out of white-hot coal. But Renjun’s head was swimming around too much, like a drop of ink being swirled around in a cup of clear water, that he didn’t care. He couldn’t care, as his consciousness has dropped severely enough for it to not correlate arousal with nervousness, and he’s grown needy enough to firmly capture Jeno’s fingers within his own, before tugging at them until they were back on the place where they truly belonged. At least for that moment.

 

“Do it.”

 

“I don’t want anything bad to happen.” Jeno’s voice sounded gravely deep and his words were dripping low with worry. And Renjun _loved it._ Loved every syllable of Jeno’s concerned words. He would’ve gone crazy for it if only he hasn’t already allowed himself to fall down the deep end the moment they first captured each other’s firsts.

 

“Nothing will,” it was a pity Renjun was too far gone to notice the irony. But at least he should be thankful that his subconsciousness did. Because this exchange was implausible and absurd enough that it would be more than enough to fuel a year worth of inside joke.

 

_Just like poetry, it rhymes._

 

With a firm, undisputable order like that, Jeno happily went into town and the effect was so devastating it left Renjun as nothing more but a quivering mess. Quiver. Renjun just realised how much he hated the word _quiver_ when it was flashing in his mind at the speed of 2 blinks per millisecond. Was this how Jeno felt when he was doing the same thing to him? Like he was living inside that one silly running game where you control the movement of the character and one wrong button mash would cause him to crumple in a heap of twisted, liveless limbs. His legs were _quivering_ so much from all the careful yet urgent touches that the ripples on the water surface were turning into animated splashes. Oh, he must’ve looked so stupid.

 

“If I say please, will you say my name?”

 

It took a little while for Renjun to fully discern Jeno’s request. And when he did, he only responded with a hooded, unfocused stare and a distracted _huh?_

 

“My name, say my name.”

 

Renjun tried to say _but_ and _why_ at the same time and the sound that came out from his mouth sounded like he was blowing bubbles underwater.

 

He wanted to argue that his brain was in no position to string up any coherent content, no matter if it was a simple word with four letters and two syllables. But he couldn’t do so because one, as mentioned before, his brain was frozen in a time when their human ancestors haven’t even gained enough cognitive ability to create and process speech, and two, because Jeno quickly leaned in and gave Renjun’s cheek a peck before he could let out another confused _huh?_

 

“Please?”

 

“O… ok, ok.” Agreeing was the easy part. Executing it, on the other hand?

 

The way Jeno’s palm was wrecking him, making him feel like a tall glass vase sitting at the highest, most rickety shelf during a massive earthquake, caused him to end up just stuttering the letter _J_ for the next ten seconds or so. And the absurdity of it all caused the start of a laughter to almost break through the hazy bubble. But from how Jeno never stopped, and god help him, even _increased_ his ministrations, finally growing brave and putting something firmer than a breeze of a stroke, the upturn of his lips were quickly bitten down by another spluttering sobs.

 

Now that he was faced by it head on, the prospect of being a subject to escalating pleasure terrified him so, as if _this_ was how his body reacted to something so quaint… he couldn’t possibly survive anything else, could he?

 

“Will you do it for me? Please?”

 

 _I can’t._ Renjun wanted to grant him of his wishes, desperately. As the premise of him returning the favour while Jeno was being so, so, _so_ _very kind_ to him was causing a fresh wave of white hot pulse to course through his body with the power of a thousand suns. But with how he was seemingly choking on his own fractured breaths, he just couldn’t. Renjun also only then realised that he’d so rarely refer to Jeno with his name. It has always been weird for him, name calling, that was. He’d always just opted to try to gain someone’s attention with a cough, a pat on the back, or a low grunt of annoyance, as he always felt that there was a sort of perversion from the act of calling someone’s name. Like you’re trying so hard to be hunky dory with people who might not even care about you at all.

 

And Renjun has survived all his life doing that weird little ritual of his, until now. Until Jeno asked him to do the thing that he considered one of a major pet peeve in his life as he was trapped in one’s throes of passion. This has transcended from being a physical kind of perversion into the state of mental voyeurism where you’re essentially letting your partner see the innermost chamber of your heart. The dusty corners, the room that even he himself has learned to ignore and think nothing of. It was as if you’ve admitted, that in the moment where you’re nothing else but base desires and instincts that have existed for millions of years, _they’re_ the one you seek.

 

Wasn’t it enough? Renjun wondered. Hasn’t their physical state, so close they would’ve melded together if they were made of anything else other than skin and bones, enough to sate Jeno’s apparent need of intimacy? Apparently not. As he wouldn’t stop asking, _pleading_ for Renjun to _please, please say my name._

 

Knowing that Jeno was more than capable of and definitely was not afraid to stretch the moment out to a torturous length just to get what he wanted (a premise that Renjun feared with all his life, as it was there, it was already _there_ , god dammit), Renjun finally gathered enough of his wits and managed to draw the word out of him with a breathless hush, in a move that somehow calmed the atmosphere between them down so considerably it felt like the calmest calm before the arrival of the strongest storm.

 

And with the fervor of a giddy pup finally allowed to go outdoors for the first time in the day, Jeno went to lap up his name with a satisfied smile pressing against Renjun's absently moving lips that were whispering it out in an ever increasing state of distress, and that was the last clear thing he could process before reality itself seemed to unravel by the seams. The perversion of his action and the pride that came from managing to satisfy Jeno’s wish as he was satisfying him, acted as the last pump of air that popped the balloon already stretched to the brink with mounting pleasure. And soon after, waves after waves of shock crashed upon him with each run of Jeno’s unmerciful fingers that made him feel like a chopstick broken first into two, then into four, then into eight, then into countless scattered pieces held together in one place only with Jeno’s arms that were coiling tight around his _quivering_ body.

 

He could only ride it to the blissful end while tasting himself off a lips that were too indulging in the sensation of their own self being spoken into existence.

 

“That was…” _amazing._ The conclusion of his sentence came in another breathless sigh, and his still blurry sight met with the bright set of Jeno’s eye smile as he mouthed back, _‘magnificent.’_

 

The multi colored fireworks in his vision wouldn’t stop blooming and sparkling like that one scene in the movie Ratatouille where Remy was trying to make Emile understand the joy in savouring food, instead of chomping it down in one, savage go, _“_...everything won’t stop swimming.”

 

“Endorphins,” Jeno gave his cheek a little smooch before he dare giggled at Renjun’s clear display of confusion, “it’ll be okay, you as the science geek should know that.”

 

“I blame your weird fantasies.”

 

“Oh, that wasn’t even my worst.”

 

And so he finally learned why the term _I love you_ seemed to mean nothing for them. Because they knew they loved each other, maybe long before they first kissed, and definitely long before they ended up there in the bathtub, thoughts scattered and swimming inside their own pool of endorphins. They’ve loved each other long before they knew it was love so the word, albeit still sounding very sweet when spilled so gigglishly and unhurriedly from both of their upturned lips, meant so little when compared to the quiet _okay_ that Renjun gave in response to Jeno’s request.

 

“Will you stay?” His fingers latched onto the hinge of Renjun’s elbow when he must’ve thought that the little wiggles he did meant that he was getting uncomfortable with the situation they were in, sitting limply in a quickly cooling bath tub, and was about to vacate it.

 

“The night? Or here? Because the water is getting cold and I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

 

“Just… just stay.”

 

Renjun often wondered, how could Jeno be the first person that he’d ever grew to care so much that he didn’t mind if things didn’t work out for them in the end. They’re only in their late teens, he knew only 5% of juvenile romance survives to adulthood. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind if they ended up only lasting for a year, for six months, for another week, even.

 

Because he only wanted to experience the world with Jeno, happiness and sufferings combined. All and any, as none could exist just by itself. So however short, or however long they last, be it as friends, boyfriends, fuckbuddies, anything. As long as he got to experience it with Jeno, then so be it.

 

So be it.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be known as: "Chapter 2: Call me by my name" HUEHUEHUEHUEHUE  
> they are: a joy to write  
> i: love them
> 
> What first should I write next? ;)
> 
> hmu @ my twitter [@moon__soil](https://twitter.com/moon__soil) ~


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